THE PORT RAIL: Walking a perfect exercise for mind, body

By Larry ClaytonSpecial to The Tuscaloosa News

Published: Sunday, December 1, 2013 at 3:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Saturday, November 30, 2013 at 4:11 p.m.

I saw a few weeks ago where the Ironman Triathlon was held once again in Hawaii. I don’t remember the details, but I think they swim hundreds of miles, then bicycle thousands of miles, and then I remember hearing one breathless television commentator once say, “now, all that’s left is the marathon.”

The first marathon was run by Philippides in 490 B.C. He left the battlefield of Marathon where Athenian soldiers defeated a Persian army and raced back the 26 miles to Athens to tell them of the victory. He collapsed and died from his effort.

So I’ve never been challenged to repeat his feat, although I know thousands of my countrymen consider the marathon the ultimate challenge of conditioning and resolve. There are now, as I understand it, ultra marathoners who run hundreds of miles, but I put them into same category as Navy SEALs, Marine Rangers and other guys who jump out of helicopters and airplanes at night into shark and/or terrorist infested waters.

I don’t relate well to them.

All of which brings me to walking, a perfectly safe pastime which is, as near as I can figure, the perfect exercise for man, woman or child.

I started taking occasional long walks with my wife, Louise, 10 or 15 years ago when my knees and feet started to wear out from being a runner. It is hard to admit how the aging process slows you down.

By the turn of the century, I was a full-time walker. Now, I hit the trail three or four times a week, usually with Louise, but sometimes alone or with our Jack Russell terrier, Flea. We live about two miles from the University of Alabama campus, and so it is a near perfect distance, four miles round-trip.

I have seen squirrels on numerous occasions saved by their quickness from being run over by cars or trucks deliberately aiming to crush them. This makes me wonder what is going through the driver’s head to want to kill squirrels.

As I ponder the darker side of mankind I sometimes hear the sound of a Medevac helicopter descending carefully, but in a cacophony of sound to the pad at DCH Regional Medical Center. That restores my faith in the good side of man.

One has to be aware of more than the great philosophical questions of man, of course. Cracked and uneven sidewalks, potholes, drivers who cannot tell the difference between a green or red light (we have a lot of colorblind people in Tuscaloosa), bicyclists who feel they have a right to the sidewalk, or simply can’t ride in a straight line, and other human bric-a-brac to keep you on your toes.

We see the “walking lady” occasionally, a slender, older black woman, who is always walking. You’ve seen her, I’m sure.

She is not quite right and will not talk to you, even when you smile and greet her, but is the most faithful walker I’ve ever seen. While she is probably certifiable, she is surely in the best shape of anyone her age in the city. We offered her a cold Coke once, and she lit up, casting demons out of us. So we give her a wide berth, bless her soul.

I’ve read that walking is the perfect exercise. You can Google it and find all the benefits, from weight control to lower blood pressure. It also helps relieve mental stress.

By the time you are on the last 10 to 15 minutes of your walk, all the stress is gone, the problems of the world solved, great theological dilemmas and issues put to bed, and survival is foremost on our minds.

You are, for a short while, in touch with your senses. You connect your heart, mind and spirit with the body, each demanding a bit of your time, crossing the finish line of your walk in front of your home, spiritually and physically spent but happy.

But it just may be the endorphins kicking in, an endocrinological explanation for the spiritual lift of walking or running a fair distance.

It doesn’t make any difference to me on how to account for it. It’s a good habit that rewards mind and body.

Larry Clayton is a retired professor of history at the University of Alabama.

<p>I saw a few weeks ago where the Ironman Triathlon was held once again in Hawaii. I don't remember the details, but I think they swim hundreds of miles, then bicycle thousands of miles, and then I remember hearing one breathless television commentator once say, “now, all that's left is the marathon.”</p><p>The first marathon was run by Philippides in 490 B.C. He left the battlefield of Marathon where Athenian soldiers defeated a Persian army and raced back the 26 miles to Athens to tell them of the victory. He collapsed and died from his effort.</p><p>So I've never been challenged to repeat his feat, although I know thousands of my countrymen consider the marathon the ultimate challenge of conditioning and resolve. There are now, as I understand it, ultra marathoners who run hundreds of miles, but I put them into same category as Navy SEALs, Marine Rangers and other guys who jump out of helicopters and airplanes at night into shark and/or terrorist infested waters.</p><p>I don't relate well to them.</p><p>All of which brings me to walking, a perfectly safe pastime which is, as near as I can figure, the perfect exercise for man, woman or child. </p><p>I started taking occasional long walks with my wife, Louise, 10 or 15 years ago when my knees and feet started to wear out from being a runner. It is hard to admit how the aging process slows you down.</p><p>By the turn of the century, I was a full-time walker. Now, I hit the trail three or four times a week, usually with Louise, but sometimes alone or with our Jack Russell terrier, Flea. We live about two miles from the University of Alabama campus, and so it is a near perfect distance, four miles round-trip.</p><p>I have seen squirrels on numerous occasions saved by their quickness from being run over by cars or trucks deliberately aiming to crush them. This makes me wonder what is going through the driver's head to want to kill squirrels.</p><p>As I ponder the darker side of mankind I sometimes hear the sound of a Medevac helicopter descending carefully, but in a cacophony of sound to the pad at DCH Regional Medical Center. That restores my faith in the good side of man.</p><p>One has to be aware of more than the great philosophical questions of man, of course. Cracked and uneven sidewalks, potholes, drivers who cannot tell the difference between a green or red light (we have a lot of colorblind people in Tuscaloosa), bicyclists who feel they have a right to the sidewalk, or simply can't ride in a straight line, and other human bric-a-brac to keep you on your toes.</p><p>We see the “walking lady” occasionally, a slender, older black woman, who is always walking. You've seen her, I'm sure.</p><p>She is not quite right and will not talk to you, even when you smile and greet her, but is the most faithful walker I've ever seen. While she is probably certifiable, she is surely in the best shape of anyone her age in the city. We offered her a cold Coke once, and she lit up, casting demons out of us. So we give her a wide berth, bless her soul.</p><p>I've read that walking is the perfect exercise. You can Google it and find all the benefits, from weight control to lower blood pressure. It also helps relieve mental stress. </p><p>By the time you are on the last 10 to 15 minutes of your walk, all the stress is gone, the problems of the world solved, great theological dilemmas and issues put to bed, and survival is foremost on our minds. </p><p>You are, for a short while, in touch with your senses. You connect your heart, mind and spirit with the body, each demanding a bit of your time, crossing the finish line of your walk in front of your home, spiritually and physically spent but happy. </p><p>But it just may be the endorphins kicking in, an endocrinological explanation for the spiritual lift of walking or running a fair distance.</p><p>It doesn't make any difference to me on how to account for it. It's a good habit that rewards mind and body.</p><p>Larry Clayton is a retired professor of history at the University of Alabama.</p>